


Inspection

by beccastanz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Also includes, Ben watches Rey drip, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Excessive descriptions of wetness, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Voyeurism, No Pregnancy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Pussy Worship, Soft Dom Ben, Submissive Rey (Star Wars), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, but with words!, he comes inside but birth control is assumed, it’s brief, mentions of the following sexual acts:, reference to potential future squirting but no actual squirting, spit, the dirty talk is kinda the whole point, thigh humping, very brief actual cunnilingus, very brief external butt stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccastanz/pseuds/beccastanz
Summary: “Just like that, baby. Let me watch it happen this time. I never get to see.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 108
Kudos: 532





	Inspection

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote some spontaneous smut on Twitter based on a Very Good Photo, gave it minimal edits, made it Reylo, here it is!

“Wider, sweetheart. I wanna watch you drip all the way down to that pretty little ass of yours. You think you can do that for me?”

She spreads as far as her legs will allow.

“Hmmm, I think you might need some help.”

He leans over and spits on her already glistening slit.

“That’s better. Remember, no touching. I’m just gonna talk to you and you’re gonna get all messy for me, isn’t that right?”

Rey trembles as she holds herself open for inspection. He’s obsessed with the way her body responds to him, so eager, dripping at his touch, and tonight, his words.

She hasn't done anything wrong. He just likes to torture her, and together they’ve discovered she likes it, too.

Her heels are planted firmly on the bed, hands tucked under her thighs, waiting. 

She watches him crouch at the foot of the bed. He’s so large, so looming, that even fully bent he is eye level with her cunt. Her stare is heated, but he only has eyes for her wetness.

“You’ve got the sweetest little cunt I’ve ever seen, you know that?”

She flushes, cheeks and chest, and she knows by now to take the compliment. 

“Yes. Thank you.”

He grins at her acceptance. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. There’s just so many things I love to do to it. Would you like to hear them?”

She nods, eager.

He likes her eager.

“Well, sometimes,” he starts, reaching a hand to brush a single finger over her ankle in a tease of sensation, “I like kissing you. You know those nights, sweetheart? When I get you on the couch, and I kiss you for ages and your cunt makes a mess of my thigh?”

She throws her head against the pillows at the litany of memories, every time he hoisted her onto his lap and made her beg for him.

“You get so beautiful and desperate for me, don’t you? Grabbing my hand just to feel my fingers or begging for my mouth like a wanton little whore.”

She moans, and the strange sensation of an actual drip of arousal from the open expanse of her lips down to the crease of her thigh prolongs the noise in her throat.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Just like that, baby. Let me watch it happen this time. I never get to see.”

Fascinated.

“I always know you’re getting wet but I never get to see it til you’re aching for me. So sweet, thinking you can get what you want the second you want it. But I think you like when I make you wait, don’t you, sweetheart?”

She feels a gush and watches him grin.

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to answer. You cunt just did.”

Her hips thrust into empty air. It’s heaven and hell on Earth, chartered by his sinful mouth.

“I’m never sure which you like best, my fingers or my mouth. There’s just something about the way you clench…” he trails off, a single finger tapping his chin in feigned contemplation. “I could finger you for hours. Maybe one day I’ll make you squirt.”

He bends his torso over the bed, rests his elbows on the mattress and his chin in cupped palms, all between her spread legs. On anyone else, it would be a ridiculous pose, but as he whispers sweet nothings to the drips of wetness collecting on her thighs, her holes, he looks absolutely menacing. Gorgeous.

He still hasn’t touched her past the single brush of a fingertip over her ankle; it feels like hours, days, years ago.

“Please, Ben,” she begs.

“No.”

Her entire body shudders at the denial.

But denial can be sweet once rescinded.

So she stills, calm, and let the wetness collect.

“Good girl.”

It’s on the sheets now, she’s sure of it, damp patch under her ass, spreading.

He looks positively gleeful.

“There’s something so special about the way you taste, though. I fucking  _ love _ the way you taste, sweetheart.”

Without warning, he collects a rivulet from her thigh.

The gasp is involuntary, and he uses it to press his wet finger past her open lips.

“Don’t you taste good, baby?”

She laps at the offering, at the barest hint of sensation even though it’s nowhere near where she needs it.

“Yes, I do,” she mumbles around his finger.

“That’s right.” He sits back again and resumes his careful observation. “Eating you out is a fucking privilege, baby.”

_ Drip. _

“And you’re so good to me, too. Every time I lick you up you just give me more, don’t you sweetheart?”

_ Drip. _

“So messy for me without my tongue to clean you up.”

“I’m s—”

His eyes are on her in an instant, the first time since this game began.

“Don’t you dare apologize. You’re fucking perfect. I love your sweet, messy little cunt. Make more for me.”

She does, strings, ribbons of want.

She doesn’t realize that the apex of her thighs is not the only source of wetness, not until the first tear rolls down her cheek and makes its own damp spot on the pillow.

“Rey, are you—”

“More,” she rasps.

His eyes light with pride, and he resumes.

“But I think my favorite thing to do to your cunt is fuck it.”

She clenches around nothing at his words, and he lets out a huff at the sight.

“Do that again.”

“What?”

“You...” he trails off, disbelieving. “I saw you clench, baby, do it again.”

She wants him to give her a reason.

“What do you like about fucking my cunt?”

He smiles.

“I like how you always soak my cock, always so eager for it.”

_ Clench. _

“Fuck.” His hand disappears & the sound of flesh on flesh permeates the air.

“I like how you always take the whole thing. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? You always think it won’t fit and it always does.”

This time brings more wetness and she’s absolutely soaked, cunt and thighs and ass surely glistening in the low light. The noise from his throat is nearly a whimper.

“But my favorite thing is how it feels when you come while I’m fucking you.”

Her body squeezes an absent cock.

“Fuck, please, Ben, I need—”

It happens almost too fast for her to register. First, his tongue swipes at her folds, a single long lick from asshole to clit, and that touch is what makes her realize just how much of a mess she made at nothing more than words.

And then, she’s full.

There are no fingers, and there is no teasing. It is simply the absence of cock, and then the presence of it, entirely, completely, walls eagerly spread to take. He slides in like a hot knife through butter, resistance absent. There is only slickness, arousal, welcomed sensation.

Her orgasm is the same, absent and then present, little more than a thumb at her clit before she’s doing his very favorite thing.

He follows soon after, and then the wetness is not just hers, but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/beccastanz)!


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